The Sultana had fled, and the stronghold of Kimbengo was no more!  A deep canal that he had caused to be excavated when alive, to bring a branch of the Ungerengeri near his city—­which was his glory and boast—­proved the ruin of Simbamwenni.  After the destruction of the place the river had formed a new bed, about 300 yards from the city.  But what astonished us most were the masses of debris which seemed to be piled everywhere, and the great numbers of trees that were prostrate; and they all seemed to lie in the same direction, as if a strong wind had come from the south-west.  The aspect of the Ungerengeri valley was completely changed—­from a Paradise it was converted into a howling waste.

We continued our march until we reached Ulagalla, and it was evident, as we advanced, that an unusual storm had passed over the land, for the trees in some places seemed to lie in swathes.

A most fatiguing and long march brought us to Mussoudi, on the eastern bank of the Ungerengeri; but long before we reached it we realized that a terrific destruction of human life and property had occurred.  The extent and nature of the calamity may be imagined, when I state that nearly ONE HUNDRED VILLAGES, according to Mussoudi’s report, were swept away.

Mussoudi, the Diwan, says that the inhabitants had gone to rest as usual—­as they had done ever since he had settled in the valley, twenty-five years ago—­when, in the middle of the night, they heard a roar like many thunders, which woke them up to the fact that death was at work in the shape of an enormous volume of water, that, like a wall, came down, tearing the tallest trees with it, carrying away scores of villages at one fell, sure swoop into utter destruction.  The scene six days after the event—­when the river has subsided into its normal breadth and depth during the monsoons—­is simply awful.  Wherever we look, we find something very suggestive of the devastation that has visited the country; fields of corn are covered with many feet of sand and debris; the sandy bed the river has deserted is about a mile wide; and there are but three villages standing of all that I noticed when en route to Unyanyembe.  When I asked Mussoudi where the people had gone to, he replied, “God has taken most of them, but some have gone to Udoe.”  The surest blow ever struck at the tribe of the Wakami was indeed given by the hand of God; and, to use the words of the Diwan, “God’s power is wonderful, and who can resist Him!”

I again resort to my Diary, and extract the following: 

April 30th.—­Passing Msuwa, we travelled hurriedly through the jungle which saw such hard work with us when going to Unyanyembe.  What dreadful odors and indescribable loathing this jungle produces!  It is so dense that a tiger could not crawl through it; it is so impenetrable that an elephant could not force his way!  Were a bottleful of concentrated miasma, such as we inhale herein, collected, what a deadly poison, instantaneous in its action, undiscoverable in its properties, would it be!  I think it would act quicker than chloroform, be as fatal as prussic acid.